Diary of a Prison Guard
by TheRecorder
Summary: They have rules at the Detention Center. Or rather, they have notices. Important notices, though. Notices that should be noted. Rules can have loopholes. So they post notices instead. And trust the glass to contain the fury of prisoner and visitor.


Kink meme, but I don't mind de-anoning this particular fic. T for laguage only though, don't worry.

I tried to keep the terms for the accused and the convicted separate, but I gave up at a certain point.

* * *

Yes, well, he _supposed_ it could have gone a bit better.

After all, it _was_ clearly stated outside the visiting room door: _All damages will be compensated by visitor._

Usually this deterred people from purposely inciting wrath of inmates more than once. Actually, almost no one dared to anymore since word got around how much those cheap-looking furnishings really cost. Or how much the Detention Center _said_ they cost.

Barring even that, the sign also said: _Guard will not interfere._

Which he _hadn't_. It wasn't in his job description to stop people from throwing things. Only to subdue the inmate if he actually got his hands on anyone.

Speaking of which. _Enter at your own risk!_ was definitely the most clearly posted.

So while it really could have gone a lot better, _he_ couldn't have done anything about it.

* * *

It was the afternoon when it happened. He had just returned from his lunch break when he was called over.

"Get Gavin in number three," he was told, "He's got a visitor."

As he followed the orders, he couldn't help but mentally sigh. Kristoph Gavin had only been housed here a day and already everyone had taken bets as to who would be the first visitor.

He hadn't participated, but as he walked down the row of holding cells, he saw a few elated and dejected faces on colleagues and he knew many others had. Curiosity seized him and he pondered for the moment who had been the outcome.

Whoever it was, he had been decided to watch over the visit for some time now. Consensus has always been that he was the most discreet of the jail guards at the Detention Center. He wouldn't share details of an exchange between a visitor and inmate.

Even if whatever a visitor had to say to Gavin was sure to be loud enough to hear in another country.

He stopped when he reached the correct cell and inserted the key to the lock.

Inside, Kristoph Gavin looked up from examining his nails critically and gazed at him. He was the only one in the large holding cell because he had frightened the other criminals so much they begged to be placed somewhere else.

He understood this, to an extent. The man had an air about him even when silent that radiated malevolence. Apparently this dark aura only appeared after the trial of Phoenix Wright, but the man wore it like his own skin.

Despite this, Gavin was perfectly civil to him, the guard always forced to deal with the unconventional criminal. Ever since he was the only one of the officers at the Detention Center not to flinch when Gavin smiled at him, fate seemed to force him near the man. When someone had to escort Gavin to a cell, he was chosen. When someone had to move Gavin to an empty cell, he was chosen. When someone had to bring Gavin dinner, breakfast, and lunch, he was chosen. And now when someone had to oversee a visit, he was chosen.

Perhaps it wasn't fate as much as everyone else was too fazed by Kristoph to be near him. In less than a day, he's seen more of the guy than he'd ever seen of any other inmate.

"Ah, Louis, my faithful friend," Kristoph smiled, "Back so soon? You see I have barely started on my noonday meal. You can't really be here to take such enjoyment from me?"

Louis didn't need to look to know Kristoph hasn't even touched the food he had been brought. So far, the man hasn't eaten anything he has been offered and it was beginning to look like he never will.

He wondered briefly if Gavin's upcoming trial will even last long enough for hunger to set in if it hasn't already, then shook his head in response to Kristoph's question.

"Not this time. You have a visitor."

Gavin's mood changed at the statement, though whether it was brightening or souring of mood, Louis couldn't tell.

Kristoph stood as he entered, obediently offering his wrists to be cuffed. Louis stifled the urge to sigh or apologize as he clicked the handcuffs on Gavin. They both knew they were unnecessary. Kristoph wouldn't struggle or fight or lash out on the way to the visiting room.

However, the former defense attorney unnerved the officers too much for them to allow him to walk around without some form of restraints. Even if he disagreed with the treatment, there was nothing Louis could do about it.

"Alright, you're good to go." He glanced at the bowl collecting dust on the bench, "Are you finished with that?"

Kristoph turned around and moved his eyes to where the guard had indicated. Then he looked at Louis. He knew Gavin would usually insist that of course he planned to eat the rest, but thankfully Kristoph acknowledged that Louis genuinely wanted to know the answer.

"Yes."

"Good, saves me a trip," Louis muttered and picked up the bowl. He then gestured for Gavin to start walking.

He was really supposed to be holding on to the prisoner's shoulder or arm, but Louis couldn't bring himself to carry on the act that far and instead helped himself to the ramen noodles that had been intended for Gavin.

Waste not, right?

As usual, Kristoph engaged him in polite conversation.

"Do you perhaps know who is visiting me?"

"To tell the truth, you and I may be the only ones who don't know."

He couldn't see his smile, but he heard it in Kristoph's next words.

"You just returned from lunch break. Did you not get enough to eat?"

Louis chuckled, "Mr. Gavin, you have visited this place many times before you were treated to our hospitality. Surely you have realized how little time that break gives us to eat."

Gavin chuckled as well, an amiable, good-natured chuckle.

"Indeed. I suppose I cannot fault you for seizing an opportunity to eat."

Louis wanted to inquire as to why Kristoph didn't do the same, but he held off.

"Out of curiosity," Gavin said after a moment, "How much damage do you believed will be caused?"

It was spoken so lightly, he almost asked what Kristoph meant. He answered after considering a bit.

"Visitors are held liable for all damage," he finally decided to reply, "And guards are instructed not to interfere unless someone actually is put in danger of harm."

Louis continued to eat the noodles. There was an uncharacteristic kind of pause from Kristoph, after which he said rather flatly, "Unless I'm about to hurt someone, you mean."

"They don't all hate you," Louis informed him, "I was told to make sure you make it to the trial unharmed."

This was not entirely untrue. It had been impressed upon all guards to modify the procedure a bit with certain inmates that were likely to rile up visitors. It was called the Wellington rule and it justified harming civilians in order to protect prisoners.

No one had mentioned anything to him about it because it was _understood_ that it would apply with Kristoph Gavin.

They made a stop at the small room used as a kitchen where Louis returned the bowl and Kristoph thanked the attending officer for the delicious meal.

Then they walked to the visitor room.

Louis opened the door and let Gavin in, closing and locking the door behind him. Kristoph presented his wrists and he unlocked them, tucking the handcuffs into his pocket.

It was only then Kristoph faced the glass partition and his visitor.

* * *

At this point, Louis became the observer. A piece of scenery would be more appropriate, he presumed, but scenery doesn't listen as curiously as he did.

Kristoph approached the chair the facing the visitor as nonchalantly as he had done everything up to now. A reflection in the glass was the only part of his face that the guard could see, but the man he sat across from was in plain view.

Though 'plain' wasn't quite the word to describe the visitor. Blue hat, gray hoodie; he looked like a hobo and yet he exuded 'special' as sure as Kristoph exuded darkness.

"Bastard."

"Murderer."

They greeted like old friends, pleasant in tone and bearing for everything but their words.

"How is the prison food?" Bastard asked with no signs of animosity.

"I wouldn't know," Gavin replied, "But you were here not long ago. Surely you would remember how gourmet it was compared to the fare you usually consume."

"Charming as ever, Gavin."

"Heathen as ever, Wright."

The two men chuckled lightly as though enjoying a good joke. The sheer anger each harbored for the other, however, was starting to creep into their smiles.

"Have they set a court date yet?" Kristoph sounded genuinely curious.

"They tried," his 'friend' informed with transparent sympathy, "but someone seems determined to draw it out as long as possible."

"Starving me, are they?"

"You best get used to the ramen, Gavin," Wright told him with mock concern, "I hear the food is thirty times worse over there."

"Did your friend Diego tell you that?" Gavin shot back.

"Is that defense envy I hear?" the visitor smiled, "Green doesn't suit your slimy complexion, Gavin."

Kristoph smiled back. "I could say the same for rose and your badge-less lapel, Wright."

"You think I am pleased?"

"I think you want to be."

"A man is dead."

"So I've heard."

The two stared each down, friendly smiles twisted into near-painful looking grimaces.

"Your little girl, Wright, how is she doing?"

That seemed to be what broke the false pleasantry finally and completely.

Wright's seething smile morphed instantly to dangerous fury.

"Go to hell."

"Temper, temper," Kristoph chided, "I simply wished to know how she is holding up."

"You…"

"Trucy, was it?"

"_Don't say her name!_"

Wright shot to his feet, chair falling to the floor with a clatter at the abruptness of the motion.

"You have no right," he growled, hate rolling off of him in waves.

"Don't I? Well, I suppose then I must change topics. How has my little apprentice taken to all this?"

Wright's hands curled at his side. It didn't seem like he would answer the question, but he finally spoke.

"He…" For some reason, a smile appeared on his face, "He is fine."

This seemed to amuse Kristoph as well, "To be expected. And did you give him a job?"

"No. I haven't seen him since the trial."

"Letting him go after crushing his ideals. Some idol you turned out to be, Wright."

"His mentor, I assure you, was far worse."

Kristoph smirked, "And look how he turned out in the end. Orphan, too. But something will come up, I'm sure. You know what they say about orphans and murder charges-"

The mighty bang Wright's fist made against the partition didn't seem to faze Kristoph.

"So glad you read my file, Kristoph," he gritted out angrily.

"We are only as strong as the people we trust, _Phoenix_." Kristoph stood and leaned towards the glass, "The people around you have a nasty habit of misplacing parents."

That set Phoenix off.

"_Misplace_? You dare call what they've been through _misplacing_?"

He punctuated his fury with pounds against the glass, but Kristoph didn't bat an eye even when cracks started to spread from the impact of the hands.

"You-!"

"Bastard?" Kristoph supplied with a tinge of absolute _glee_ in his voice.

"Fuck you!"

Phoenix slammed his palms against the partition, which promptly cracked in a spider web pattern.

Silence followed as neither spoke and after a moment blood began to seep from Phoenix's hands to the glass.

They stared steadily at one another across the cracked partition.

"…You're bleeding, Wright."

"I know. Unlike you, I don't need to flip them over to know they're red."

Carefully, Phoenix took his hands from the glass and let them hang by his side.

"I got distracted by old times," he said quietly when Kristoph didn't reply, "but I came here for a reason. I almost didn't plan on delivering it."

He reached into his hoodie pocket and extracted a box of cards. He set it on the table and put both hands back in his pocket. The box showed the cards had blue backs.

"As an enemy, I'm presenting this as a reminder of your failure. As your friend, however false or back-stabbing that friendship is, I'm giving you this as a gift."

Kristoph could only stare at the distorted image of the cards through the broken glass.

"I will do everything I can to get you behind bars for the rest of your days. You might as well have some kind of entertainment while you're waiting to die."

With those words, Phoenix turned to leave but paused at the door, "You know, Gavin, if you had been different…"

He didn't even look up to reply, "I don't believe we could have ever been friends, Wright. Not real ones."

"I know. I was thinking we could have been a great comedy duo though."

The criminal looked up and smiled without humor.

The visitor smiled back with equal feeling.

"Goodbye, Kristoph."

"Goodbye, Phoenix."

_'May we never meet again'_ hung unspoken between them for another six months.

* * *

Louis led a handcuffed Gavin out of the room and told him to stay outside the door while he went to the main desk. Usually, this was unheard of, but Gavin was so lost in his thoughts, he wondered if he had heard him at all.

Phoenix Wright was leaving when Louis got to the entrance. Apparently he had just finished paying for the partition he had broken.

"There was something for Kristoph Gavin from Phoenix Wright?" Louis prompted a nearby officer and was given the card deck. Anything from Phoenix Wright, it seemed, didn't need checking.

Louis returned to find Gavin exactly where he left him.

"Mr. Gavin, it's time to go."

"Ah! Yes, of course."

Despite this moment of presence, Gavin was silent the rest of the way to the cell.

Louis handed him the cards after unlocking his hands, "Here."

"Thank you."

He left quickly. Something told him that he didn't want to be around once those cards were opened.

Sure enough, several paces past rows of cells, a haunting laugh echoed down the hall behind him.

* * *

Kristoph ran his fingers over the blue and white box. It was room-temperature, yet it seemed icy cold for some reason. His thumb ran over the top several times before he finally decided to open it.

A folded note sat on top of the cards. He picked it up and unfolded it.

_Dear Mr. Gavin,_

_I can't say without prejudice right now how I feel about my time spent in your employment. However, I know that eventually I will come to realize that you taught me more about defending than you did about betrayal. Eventually I will want to thank you for at least that much even if the only thing I want to do right now is shout at you._

_We both know how loud that can get too. I'm still going to practice my Chords of Steel every night, by the way. If I see you again, I want to be able to fully convey __just how __my gratitude._

_Until then, I hope you wish me the best on my career. If you don't, that's okay too._

_Apollo Justice_

Kristoph felt some emotion gnawing at his mind, but ignored it. Instead, he looked at the cards.

His eyes narrowed. Something seemed off. He poured them out onto his lap.

Out of the blue card deck box spilled red-backed cards.

And Kristoph laughed.


End file.
